The Used TARDIS Salesman
by Kakawot
Summary: Way back, or way forward, before the Last Great Time War, all you had to do to get a decent TARDIS was visit the parking lot with the fluttering flags.


**A/N: **The moment the words 'the adventures of the used TARDIS salesman' popped up, I laughed until I cried with all the insane plotbunnies. I hope I'll be able to convey the bouts of laughter I suffered while writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. *insert usual spiel about being ESL and please tell me if you come across anything weird*

* * *

By universal law the parking lot was decorated with tiny flags flapping in the wind. And as a Gallifreyan, the owner of the tiny flags was aware of that law. He'd complied to the other universal laws for this kind of establishment by advertising in bright, primary colors, and his greasy grin could power a fryer for a week.

The moment the Janitor and his son stepped into the building the owner walked up to them, shining his grin at them. He extended his hand and greeted in a jovial voice: "Hello, hello, welcome to my humble abode, I'm Gary, and this is 'Gary's Great Emporium of Used TARDISes' although I'm sure you've seen the huge sign outside."

Gary laughed a booming fake laugh and the Janitor smiled against his will. "Hello. I'm looking for a proper TARDIS for my son, Jolta. He recently passed his test."

"Congratulations, lad! I've got a wide range of models available, so please, follow me. Are you looking for anything in particular?"

The boy blushed a bright red and mumbled something along the line of 'girls'. Gary laughed his booming laugh. "I'm sure any girl will be impressed when they see you've got a real TARDIS. This way, please."

Gary led them outside, to the parking lot with the fluttering flags. The Janitor had walked through it when he went to the office building smack dab in the center of the lot, but now he could truly appreciate the utter mess of time ships populating the parking lot.

Not one of the TARDISes looked the same. A tiny godhouse stood next to an uncloaked red one. Past them stood a wide variety of primary colored ones, and at the end a black one stood a little apart from the rest. The Janitor saw that that poor TARDIS had several deep cuts lining its exterior. As they came nearer the Janitor felt an air of gloominess seep from that TARDIS, although the brightly colored ones tried to outshine them with sheer exuberance.

It felt like they took a stroll through a pet shelter, with every TARDIS screaming 'pick me!' and rattling its cage.

Gary led them to a gold-colored TARDIS with half of its original shape transformed into a giant cupcake.

"This one's top of the range, latest model, complete with isolinear circuitry and Hexion space converter. The chameleon chip needs some fixing, but that's a small matter. It comes with spinning rims on the 19" steering wheel, so the girls are sure to love it."

Gary winked at the boy, who blushed as bright cherry red as the TARDIS next to it, who immediately glowed an even brighter red to outdo the kid.

The Janitor took one look at the price and physically jerked back.

"I'm looking for something more… normal," said the Janitor carefully. Gary nodded knowingly and turned his back on the gold/cupcake hybrid TARDIS, leading them on. The gold/cupcake TARDIS deflated, with the cupcake part crumbling into dust as it regained its original shape.

"Then this is what you're looking for," announced Gary. He pointed at the black gloomy one. "She's a 90-model, so you know what that means in terms of speed. Another thing the girls love." A big fat wink in the direction of the boy.

"Why's it so dark?" asked the Janitor. He shivered as the TARDIS broadcasted another wave of depression.

"She's just going through a phase, nothing to worry about."

"She tried to cut herself, see?" said the boy softly. Gary laughed, although the booming part was a far way off.

"She's trying to get some attention, it's nothing harmful."

"I don't want this one, dad," said Jolta. The Janitor shook his head.

"This one isn't right for you, I agree. So, let's continue."

Gary quickly led them back into the happier part of the lot, leaving the emo TARDIS to wallow in its misery and hum some more 'nobody understands me' songs. They walked past the row of primary colored ones and came across one which carried all the colors of the rainbow.

"What about this one?" asked Jolta. Gary shook his head at him.

"She's a bit queer. Won't take on any males on board, only females, I'm afraid," said Gary. "Top of the line, nonetheless," he hurried to add.

Past the rows of uncloaked ones came the ones whose chameleon chip got stuck. It was the biggest mess of items the Janitor had ever seen. There were giant cardboard boxes, phone booths from all periods of time and space, a tiny pyramid, an obscene fountain which spewed green liquid… It looked like a garage sale gone horribly wrong.

"This one right here," began Gary, pointing at the tiny pyramid, "has got one of the most intuitive interfaces, perfect for a beginner. You could land her on a single atom if you chose to."

"But… she's a pyramid," said Jolta hesitantly. Gary slapped him on the shoulder in a friendly gesture.

"And what a pyramid she is. Straight from the Gazebo period of Alpha Beta Prime."

"But she's still a pyramid. As in: a broad bottom and a small top. I mean, I _just_ passed my test."

Gary didn't deflate one bit at the many rejections thrown his way. He grinned his greasy grin at them again and led them off on a merry dance between the time ships. Well, not so much a dance, more of a fast walk.

"What about this one?" asked the Janitor. He pointed at a lovely TARDIS, gleaming with normality amidst the mess, not a bolt out of place.

"She looks nice," said Jolta.

"It's a 'he', I'm afraid," said Gary.

"A he?" asked the Janitor astounded. He'd never heard of a male TARDIS before.

"Bit gender confused, he is. Flies like the best of ships, but once again limited to the female gender."

The Janitor kept on trudging through the parking lot behind Gary as he led them through a bizarre maze of increasingly incredulous-looking ships. There were TARDISes which had taken on the shape of a single door, a heavy stone mausoleum, a life-sized statue of a man in a dressing gown. Walking through this parking lot was like walking through the forgotten pockets of universe's trousers before the debris got swept away in the washing machine.

Although the weirder the time ships got, the cheaper they became. And he couldn't afford much on the Janitor's salary.

Gary stopped and whipped out a key from somewhere inside his breast pocket. Bigger on the inside, of course, if he carried all those keys around.

"I reckon this one's perfect for you."

He stuck the key into a TARDIS which looked normal enough on the outside. The Janitor and Jolta followed Gary inside and the strong smell of acid immediately assaulted the Janitor. Through teared-up eyes he saw the sparking remains of the center console.

"She looks like somebody took a sledgehammer to it!" cried Jolta. Gary nodded sadly.

"She and the previous owner disagreed a bit about what came first: the chicken or the hen. But if you air her out and fix her up a little bit she's good as new."

"No," said the Janitor curt. "I don't want a fixer-upper for my son."

Gary inclined his head at the Janitor. "Very well, allow me."

He shut the door behind them and the Janitor scrubbed furiously at his eyes to get rid of the tears streaming down his face.

"This one is a good beginner's model. One from the thirty range of models." Gary laid a hand on the side of a silver-plated TARDIS. "Mind you, she's had a scare so she won't fly further than a billion years forwards or backwards, but-"

"No," interrupted Jolta. "I want a working one, not one which even can't go back to the birth of the universe. Dad, my friends will all make fun of me."

"Don't worry son, I'm not buying this one. Let's keep on looking."

Gary showed them more broken TARDISes, every one of them came with a story or an explanation for the state it was in. They varied from quirks from old TARDISes which built up over the years, to straight up manufacturers/geneticists mistakes which made the TARDIS ask questions about the life, the universe and everything, and which wouldn't let you out until you assured it that it was model 42.

But both the Janitor and Jolta knew the moment they laid eyes on that particular time ship that they'd found the right one for them.

"I'd like to see that one," said the Janitor carefully, trying to keep his voice steady. Already his mind lined up arguments to haggle over the price. Because he knew his son would fall for that TARDIS like a star for a black hole.

"Certainly," said Gary. Jolta almost skipped to the TARDIS and as soon as he laid a hand on the metal it hummed appreciatively.

"What's the matter with this one?" asked Jolta, and at that moment the Janitor's hearts swelled with pride for his son. He was smart, that kid, asking questions before he fell too head over heels for that TARDIS.

"There's nothing particularly _wrong_ with any of them, they just have… quirks," said Gary defensively. He eyed the time ship. "This one belonged to a young bloke like yourself, who unfortunately got caught on the wrong end of a Jagoon blaster. Regenerated into an older man, so he never came back for her."

"But there's no hidden paranoia, she's not shy or in love with another TARDIS, or anything?" asked Jolta. Gary shook his head and fished the key from his breast pocket.

"Take a look inside for yourself."

The inside looked much like the outside. The center console wasn't covered in hairballs, acid, or dented beyond belief, and the other rooms looked clean and whole as well. No hidden ecosystems, sentient computers bent on destroying all humans (whatever race that was), or with a contained tiny black hole inside.

"I'd like to talk to my son, please," said the Janitor. Gary smiled knowingly and stepped outside. The Janitor put a hand on his son's shoulder.

"What do you think?" he asked, although the answer was obvious.

"She's perfect," breathed Jolta. "I mean, she looks alright on the inside, the odometer says she's only flown nineteen million lightyears, and she's an 80-model. And she's got racing stripes!"

"And a huge spoiler," said the Janitor. Some of his son's boyish excitement carried on to him, and Jolta kept on listing the attributes which made her so appealing to him.

"And she's got neon lightning, and a huge sound system, and Dad, look! She even comes with a pool!"

The TARDIS sang around them as they praised her. The Janitor saw the connection growing between his son and this TARDIS.

"She's indeed great. Hold on, let me take a look at the price tag."

Surreptitiously the Janitor stepped outside for a second and grabbed the dangling piece of paper fluttering in the wind. He eyed the figures printed onto the card and went back inside, not once making eye contact with Gary. Only when he closed the door did he speak.

"She's yours," he said. "I wish all my shopping was this easy."

"This isn't shopping, Dad! This is a crucial part of becoming a man, and, thank you thank you thank you!"

Jolta ran across the center console and stumbled over the grating, but he still managed to give his father a bear hug. The Janitor ruffled his son's hair as the force of impact made him take a step back. His son was growing up.

"Let's step outside, shall we?" said the Janitor. Jolta released the Janitor and ran his hand over the console, to which the TARDIS hummed a happy tune. When they stepped outside, Gary approached them, as greasy as ever. He waited for the Janitor to start talking.

"We'll take her," said the Janitor. The surrounding TARDISes groaned audibly in sadness, a sound which rippled throughout the lot as all the TARDISes realized that they'd been cheated out of a driver once again.

"Excellent! Congratulations, Janitor, Jolta, you've chosen a fine TARDIS as your first vehicle. If you'll follow me, I'll draw up the adoption papers."

As the Janitor and Jolta followed Gary away from the happily humming TARDIS they'd chosen, the Janitor looked back at the time ship. The time ship disappeared from view with lots of creaky noises, but the last image the Janitor saw was the huge spoiler. It reappeared at the entrance of the office building, where it positively floated out of joy.

The Janitor grinned at the ship, and at his son as he enthusiastically greeted her when she came into view. Those two were going to have a lot of adventures together, and they'd brave the universe until the end of time. His fatherly instinct told him so.

* * *

"But-"

"How old are you? Nine hundred? Nine hundred and one?"

"Somewhere around that, yeah. But I don't see what that has got to do with-"

"If you don't take that thing off, I am not going in there. It's like sitting down in a car with a drunk, blind gerbil at the wheel and its two deaf cousins working the pedals."

"I'm not that bad, am I? Never mind that, it's a piece of my home, I'm not abandoning it."

"You don't have to, keep it if you want, but it looks ridiculous on top. Like you have to _compensate_."

And so Rose forced the Doctor to unscrew the giant spoiler he'd found floating in space from his TARDIS. In hindsight a police box with a racing spoiler looked suspicious, even more so than usual. He ran his hands over it one last time before he chucked it into one of the many, many storage rooms.

If he listened carefully he heard it hum, telling the galaxy of its travels, its adventures, and the previous owner.

The Doctor smiled a sad smile and carefully laid it down amidst the other wreckage he'd found of his home, where it hummed along with the other pieces of TARDISes he'd found in the course of his travels.

* * *

**A/N:** Only when I looked up 'isolinear circuit' did I realize that it's a term from Star Trek. Is it a bad sign if you don't realize you use technobabble anymore?

As I threw quite a lot of jokes in here, I'd like to know which ones fell flat and which ones you liked, so I can fine-tune my humor skills.


End file.
